


The Man Who'd Earned His Affection

by OGMadster



Series: A Warrior of Light and his Loves: Kisstober 2020 Collection [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 08:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28348206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OGMadster/pseuds/OGMadster
Summary: Estinien has heard Aymeric talk about the Warrior of Light and he's still not sure what to make ofhowhe did so. He's going to find out soon enough what he makes of the man himself, as it happens...---With thanks to twitter user kowaretaP for the Kisstober prompts.Further info in end notes.
Relationships: Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)/Estinien Wyrmblood
Series: A Warrior of Light and his Loves: Kisstober 2020 Collection [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2076024
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	The Man Who'd Earned His Affection

Estinien lingered in the antechamber, waiting to be summoned to Aymeric’s side, his armor clicking as he fidgeted. Idleness ill suited him, and Aymeric knew that well. He hated waiting. He hated how curious he was even more; he wanted to see for himself what sort of man had earned such praise, such excitement from Aymeric. Seeing him like that made him think of things long past. Had he ever spoken about Estinien with such a glimmer in his eye? His voice measured as though having to hold back, so as not to give himself away?

“May I present to you Ishgard’s Azure Dragoon,” Aymeric said.

That was his queue. At last. He strode forward to stand at the Lord Commander’s side, squaring up. The first person he saw as Aymeric spoke of him, of what it meant to be Azure Dragoon, was the runt - hardly eighteen by the looks of him, his eyes still large with youth and features still soft - but then he saw him.

Aymeric had said he was a tall Duskwight, but by the Fury the man could have said he had Roegadyn blood and he’d have believed him, though he was all limber and slender of limb as any Elezen. His skin was the color of ashes, dark as charcoal in the low light, and even more than the cut of his build the scars on his face spoke of his ordeals as a warrior. His eyes were crimson, shockingly so, and they regarded him, steady, as though seeking to meet his gaze through his helm.

“So you are the adventurer I’ve heard so much about,” Estinien said when Aymeric had finished. “I see now why my blood sang in anticipation of meeting you.” Indeed, he appreciated that he came dressed not for parley, but for battle, his shield on his back, broadsword at his hip, his armor - the white and blue of paladins, he recognized belatedly - all in good repair but not without wear. Estinien appreciated the practicality.

As Aymeric dispensed with the pleasantries of titles and names, the adventurer, Kyler, inclined his head in a nod that somehow had all the courtesy of a bow, but said nothing. Interesting. As the two diplomats in the room launched into proceedings, he watched Kyler watching him and saw his own curiosity reflected back in red eyes.

* * *

The campfire was burning low, the coals alive with heat. Something in their motions conferred luminance to Kyler’s eyes as he gazed into them. He looked as though he was a being of fire, all ash-black skin and ember eyes, as though a Wyrm’s infernal breath would be hardly a breeze to him, but no. No one honed from dragon-fire could have such a soft smile. Estinien fought the urge to scold himself. These kinds of thoughts weren’t like him.

Somewhere, Nidhogg dreamed.

Estinien felt it as a surge of anger, a rising rage, all-consuming. He closed his eyes against it, needing to keep it at bay. Sometimes it was so overwhelming he felt like a vessel fit to burst or boil over, and he prayed it would not come to that. Gripping the lance that lay at his side, he focused on the feel of it in his hand, steady and sure, and then on how it would look and feel driving into the roof of the great wyrm’s mouth. Feelings were not something he could afford with the slaughterer of his people intruding into his thoughts.

And yet...and yet....

He chanced another glance toward the adventurer. Alphinaud had fallen asleep beside him and Kyler had slipped folds of a cloak beneath his head, resting on his leg. As Estinien watched, he gently shifted the lad’s braid away from his face, a delicate gesture. He put his eyes back on the fire, focusing on the image now of a closed door, a yalms-thick stone wall, impenetrable. Familiar and comforting concepts he returned to over and over in a bid to get some reprieve, to put even imaginary distance between him and the wyrm. But he was stirring, the wrath of his waking a fresh barrage on his senses. Sometimes he swore he could smell burning, taste spark and brimstone on his tongue. It used to make him gag; he was accustomed to it now, and he hated it all the more for the familiarity.

“Estinien?”

His attention snapped to the present, to what he could see with his eyes. Kyler was watching him, steady, a hint of...not concern, but perhaps knowing, in his looks. He was still but alert, ready to move at a moment’s notice in spite of the young Scion sleeping at his side.

In that instant, he knew with absolute certainty that, if he supported their naive mission of diplomacy or not, Kyler Drake would do what had to be done. If Nidhogg would fall by anyone’s hands but Estinien’s, it would be his.

“Would you like first watch, then?” Kyler asked quietly, everything else he wasn’t saying apparent by their omission.

Estinien nodded. 

Shifting his legs only minutely so as not to jar Alphinaud, Kyler lay back, tucking one hand beneath his own head, and closed his eyes. Estinien knew well enough by now that this man seldom fully slept, and he wasn’t likely to do so now. He, who had somehow put all three of their unlikely party at ease in different ways, who had Aymeric’s love, reclining to rest in full armor as Estinien himself often did.

A whisper of jealousy stole through him and at its touch a new surge of Nidhogg’s fury crashed in. This wasn’t the time for thinking about Aymeric, nor Kyler, nor the two of them together, Fury have mercy, nor  _ anyone _ fondly. It never was. He set his eyes on the fire and built up his walls.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you'd like to wallow in brain worms with me please feel free to hit me up on twitter @ScruffyChocoboi!
> 
> This is part of an ongoing and evolving collection!  
> In October, twitter user @kowaretaP posted a prompt list called Kisstober delineated as follows:  
> Days 1-9: First Kiss  
> Days 10-16: Fluffy Hours  
> Days 17-23: Tension  
> Days 24-31: Goodbye  
> along with encouragement to alter them as desired. I did some sketches for the polycule, but the brain worms took over and had me writing the scenarios too. I also added a prequel section I've been calling "First Sight, First Pangs."
> 
> This piece is one of the "First Sight, First Pangs" pieces.
> 
> Estinien's First Sight correlates with quest 2.55.3, "The Wyrm’s Roar"  
> Estinien's First Pangs correlates with quest 3.0.47, "Waiting for the Wind to Change"


End file.
